Devon Dundee

Writing about things that matter (to me)

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The Things that Don't Go Away

March 27, 2018 by Devon Dundee

Last week, we talked about impermanence, the fact that nothing in this world remains the same over time. And it’s true that nothing we see or feel or create will last forever. But I hope I didn’t oversell impermanence to you, because there actually is at least one thing that will last forever: us.

We aren’t completely immune to the effects of change. After all, our bodies grow and develop over time, and our personalities change as well. But there is something core to each of us that remains throughout all of the growing, changing, and developing we go through. In my faith tradition, we call it the human soul. There are other words for it: true self, identity, essence.

Regardless of what you call it, it’s undeniable that there is something inside each of us that makes us who we are and does not change. That’s why you don’t call someone by a different name just because they grow a few inches or suddenly decide to change hobbies. That something is permanent, eternal endless. And it can be affected in profound ways by certain things. I thought that this week, we might talk about a few of them.

One of the things that sticks with us is the lessons we learn along the way. Whether it be through personal experience, study, passed-down wisdom, or observing others, we each pick up on certain truths as we go through life. These lessons shape us into who we are and change the way we interact with the world and with others. Sometimes, we learn a lesson that completely alters the trajectory of our lives. Other times, we learn tiny lessons that have more subtle, but nonetheless real, impacts. Regardless, these lessons are a part of who we are, and they go with us as we grow and change, and even when we die.

Another thing that sticks with us is grace, both the grace shown to us by others and the grace we ourselves choose to show. When someone gives us a gift or forgives us for something when we don’t deserve it, it shows us how deeply good humanity can be. And when we do the same for others, we share in that goodness in a powerful way. Grace makes us into more grateful, compassionate, empathetic people. In a word, it makes us better. And in that way, it has a permanent effect.

Of course, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention what I consider to be the greatest act of grace in all of the history: the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Jesus’ grace towards me has changed the way I live my life now as well as my eternal trajectory, and this one act has done so for millions of others, too. If you ever wonder what grace is or what it can do, Jesus is the perfect example to look to, and we would all do well to live into that grace and practice it in the way that he did.

Finally, love is the thing we do that has the most lasting impact of all. Loving others and being loved by them changes us at a fundamental level. Feeling loved by family, friends, and community allows us to feel secure and to be our truest selves. And loving others teaches us to sacrifice and give of ourselves in order to improve the lives of others. Love is the most wonderful and powerful thing that we humans can do, and when we choose to love, we are making an investment in people that will last forever.

So if you were a little discouraged by my explanation of impermanence last week, take heart. You do have an opportunity to do something that lasts forever, just not in the ways you might usually think. By sharing lessons, grace, and love with others, you can impact and form them in ways that will last far longer than anything you could ever earn or make. Because these things last an eternity, and what could be more meaningful than that?

March 27, 2018 /Devon Dundee
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This Too Shall Pass

March 20, 2018 by Devon Dundee

There once was a Persian king who gave his wise men the most difficult of tasks: Come up with a statement that will always be true, no matter the circumstance, and inscribe it on a ring. This way, he could wear the ring and turn to it in times of uncertainty. After much time and consideration, the wise men came up with what they believed to be the universal statement, and they had it inscribed on the king’s ring. Excitedly, he placed the ring upon his finger and examined it to find out what his wise men had shared. And here’s what it said:

“This, too, shall pass.”

I’m not sure where that fable comes from. (I’m going to be honest: I got it from Sadie Robertson’s Instagram page.) And it doesn’t tell us what the king thought of the truth that his wise men brought to him. Maybe he was pleased with what it said because he took comfort in it. Or maybe he was enraged by his servant’s audacity to claim his reign wouldn’t last. Maybe he was scared by the truth of what his ring said. I don’t know. But I know that the more I think about their statement, the more I realize its truth. And its power.

Everyone knows deep down that nothing in this life is permanent. No circumstance lasts forever. No possession stays within grasp. And no person or connection remains unchanged for long. We live in a world of impermanence. Everything we have, everything we see, and everything we think makes us who we are will one day be gone. Even the very cells that make up our bodies are constantly dying and being replaced. Literally nothing we perceive lasts forever.

Most of us don’t like to think about that. Especially in the Western world, we tend to look at ourselves, our accomplishments, our possessions, and our ways of doing things and think, “This will last forever.” We try to accomplish goals and build monuments to leave our mark on the world and create something that will overcome the impending decay. But as Eastern wisdom has always known, and as human experience has come to teach us, there is no escaping death, irrelevance, or being forgotten. It happens to everyone and everything.

And though it might be jarring to recognize at first, this truth is actually quite comforting. It’s a reminder that the situation we find ourselves in at this moment is not where we’ll be for the rest of our lives. Our experiences are ethereal; they come, and they go. If you’re hurting, you can hope in the fact that you won’t hurt forever. If you’re disappointed or frustrated or unfulfilled or angry or just plain tired, don’t get bogged down in thinking that life has to be this way. This, too, shall pass.

This recognition that the way things are isn’t the way things have to be can both spur us to create change and allow us to accept the things we can’t change. When we overcome the tendency towards defeatism, we see that there are things about our circumstances that are within our power to change: our attitude, our reactions, our outlook. And that makes it easier to tolerate the things we don’t like but can’t change, and to trust that those things will change naturally in time.

But there’s a flip side to this truth as well: If the bad things will inevitably pass, so will the good things. If we’re lucky, we can remember a time in our lives when we were happy, care-free, and completely fulfilled. But most of us probably aren’t there now, and none of us can live in that place full-time. Because as great as life can be at times, something always sneaks in and causes issues.

This should inspire us to practice humility. When we are successful and things are going well, we must remember that they won’t always be this way. We can’t let our own pride trick us into thinking that we can always be happy. We can’t be. But if we recognize in the midst of our happiness that it isn’t going to last forever, we can at least enjoy it without becoming distraught whenever it does inevitably go away.

The key, I think, is found in the practice of non-attachment. It’s not that we don’t enjoy the good things in life or dislike the bad things. It’s that we don’t become too attached to any of those feelings, or for that matter, the things that cause those feelings. We can experience the highs and the lows of life in such a way that we aren’t so affected by them that they control us. We stay in control by keeping ourselves in check, and that is accomplished through remembering this simple truth.

As the band OK Go says in their catchy song (and impressive music video), “Let it go. This, too, shall pass.” That statement applies to both the bad things we experience and the good. The truth is that everything is going to change eventually. So we can’t cling to anything, lest it go away and we be left with nothing. But we can’t become completely detached from the world, either. Instead, we can hold on to things loosely, fully experiencing and being affected by them while recognizing that they will soon go away.

No matter where you find yourself, whether it’s in a good place or a bad place, I hope this post is encouraging to you. I’ve been intentional about practicing non-attachment in my own life for several years and found it to be incredibly helpful. Maybe you will, too. Just remember that no matter what you’re going through, whether you love it or hate it, it’s not going to stay the same forever. After all, this, too, shall pass.

March 20, 2018 /Devon Dundee
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The Real Cuss Words

March 13, 2018 by Devon Dundee

Cussing. Swearing. Using wordy-dirds. Or as Captain America puts it, “Language!” Whatever you call it, profanity is a contentious topic. Some people balk at any reference to four-letter words, while others sprinkle them into conversation without missing a beat. Most people don’t even notice if a naughty word or two gets thrown around during a movie, but I know some who invest in special TV equipment just for filtering out foul language. They make some adults blush, most children giggle, and every stubbed toe feel just a little bit better. (Don’t act like you’ve never said one, at least in your head.)

And everyone has their own idea of what a cuss word is. We each have a list in our heads of words we’ll never, ever say, at least not in public. Is it OK to make references to profane words, maybe just by saying the first letter? What about writing out the first and last letters with funny characters in the middle? I’m sure most of us have used a word at some point that horrified a friend or family member who considered it a cuss word when we had no idea. It seems like we spend a lot of time thinking about and potentially trying to avoid this subjective list of words that have been deemed “bad” by society.

But what really makes these words bad, anyway? Sure, they’re impolite in many social circumstances. Some might even call them offensive. You probably wouldn’t use them in front of your grandma. And you certainly don’t want to say them in front of children who don’t understand how to read a room before opening their mouths. But is there anything about the words we consider “cuss words” that makes them innately negative or destructive?

I’m not trying to make light of these words or those who have strong opinions about them. I understand the inclination to avoid them. But lately, I’ve started to wonder if we’re focusing our attention on the wrong kinds of words. Because I’ve noticed that the people who spend the most time avoiding cussing tend to be the most likely to overlook something a lot more dangerous: slurs.

Slurs are words that are used to demean, dehumanize, or otherwise disrespect a human being or group of human beings, usually based on some sort of stereotype. For the sake of decency, I won’t give you a list, but you can probably think of a few yourself. These words are objectively, morally reprehensible because they are created and used to be hurtful. Their intention is to cause harm to someone else, something we all know that language can do. In short, these words are hateful, and that is what makes them bad words.

I’ll give one example, and I hope I handle it tastefully. I have been horrified by the rampant, relentless use in our culture of the r word. Originally used as a medical term to refer to someone with an intellectual disability, this word has been hijacked by popular culture and used to refer to someone who is stupid, foolish, or nonsensical. And that misappropriation, that use of the term as a way to insult another person, has rendered it a slur.

Many of us are privileged enough to have no experience whatsoever with the feelings of marginalization and devaluation that come with being identified with a word that’s used as a slur, and so it’s hard for us to picture what that’s like. But I’m asking you to try. Imagine that there was a word that described a characteristic that you did not choose and could not change. Something that made you different. Something that was a part of your identity that you could not get rid of. And then someone else, who doesn’t have that characteristic and experience, comes along and starts using that word in place of the word “idiot.” How would that make you feel? When I think about it, it makes me feel pretty low.

I’m not saying that people who use the r word mean to be hurtful by using it. They probably just picked it up from someone else and started using it without thinking about what it actually means. But here’s the thing: It doesn’t matter your intention. A slur is a slur, and it’s immensely hurtful to those affected by it.

We don’t have the right to look at someone who’s already had a rough go of it and say, “Your experience doesn’t matter. Only mine does.” That word doesn’t belong to us; it belongs to them. And when we take it and misapply it, it is an attack on the identities and self-esteems of people who have struggled enough as it is. People who have done nothing wrong. People who deserve our consideration and respect.

It’s an exercise in empathy, and that’s not an easy thing to do. I understand that. But if we’re going to be good, kind, loving people, monitoring our language and removing hate speech is a part of that. You can’t claim to love someone if you’re harming and marginalizing them with your words at the same time. Being sympathetic means recognizing the experiences of others as equally valuable as your own, and sometimes, that means adjusting the words you use to make the world a more welcoming place for others.

The r word is just one example, by the way. There are countless more, and we all use them, even if we don’t know it. It was recently brought to my attention that my use of the word “lame” to describe something that’s boring or disappointing is actually an ableist slur. At first, I thought (like many of you might have just now), “That’s ridiculous!” But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that using that word could make someone who’s disabled feel like they’re a bore or a disappointment, and I would never want to do that. Would you?

Some might ask, “If we start down this road of monitoring our language, when will it end?” And here’s my answer: It’ll end when we’ve removed every single insensitive, hateful slur from our language. Every last one. They have no place in decent society, and it’s wrong for us to participate in the marginalization of others. It may not matter that much to you because it doesn’t affect you or your loved ones personally, but it’s a daily struggle for those who’ve already been mistreated and cast aside already, as well as countless others who love them.

Ableism. Racism. Sexism. Classism. Ageism. We communicate all of these biases and more when we use slurs in our everyday language. I for one am committed to removing all of them from my speech, and I hope you will be, too. Avoiding cuss words is great if that’s what you feel led to do, but if you continue to allow this sort of hate speech into your conversation, then you’re still using bad words. Let’s agree to work together and remove them all, shall we?

March 13, 2018 /Devon Dundee
compassion
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It's the Nice Ones

March 06, 2018 by Devon Dundee

It’s something that seems to be happening more and more these days. Maybe it’s happened to you. It certainly has to me a few times. You’re having a conversation with someone, maybe even someone you know quite well, and everything’s going along fine until suddenly, out of the blue, they say something so uncharacteristically hateful that you’re absolutely floored. Flabbergasted. Shocked and at a loss for words.

It’s not directed towards you, of course. After all, this person is perfectly polite and seemingly decent. It could be about a foreign country, people of a specific sexual orientation, a celebrity, a certain race, another religion, a politician, some socioeconomic group, or any other number of people. The subject doesn’t really matter. Regardless of the targeted individual or group, the person says something so biased, so ignorant, and so heartless that you just can’t believe that it came out of the mouth of someone you thought you respected.

It hurts. It’s jarring in a way that’s difficult to describe. It almost feels like the person reared back and punched you in the stomach, but they didn’t. There they are, standing there, looking normal as ever. Acting like they didn’t just say the most abhorrent thing you’ve heard in recent memory. And it makes you wonder, “How could a person who seems so decent and kind be this misguided and hateful in this one area?”

These experiences are painful because they induce cognitive dissonance. There’s a disconnect between what we expect from reality and what we actually experience. When we know someone to be a good person most of the time, we expect them to be a good person all of the time. And let’s be honest: It’s usually those we consider the best who let us down the most. When they act in a way that isn’t fitting for a good person, it messes with our heads in a big way.

Really, it comes down to this: We struggle to understand how the same person can be both compassionate and hateful, how they can have such light and darkness inside of them at the same time. When we see it out in the world, it horrifies us. But have we ever stopped to consider that maybe this dichotomy between love and hatred exists in all of us?

I’ve found that the more I commit myself to practicing compassion, the more I recognize the darkness inside of me. As I seek to expand my love for others to include more and more people, I run into problem areas where my more primitive side fights back against my desire to show compassion. It’s easy to show love to those close to me, and even to strangers, but what about the people I hate? What about the people I disagree with? What about the people who I feel like are making the world a significantly worse place for everyone else? The truth is that I’m not always faithful to show compassion to them.

From time to time, I find myself surprised and horrified by my own capacity for hatefulness. Especially in our current political climate, it is far too easy to demonize other people, decide that they aren’t worth our consideration, and dismiss them as worthless. I’ve been guilty of this myself, and I’ve had to repent of some of the things I’ve said about others. It’s not that my disagreement with them changes; it’s that I choose to recognize them as people, even if they are bad people, and show them the consideration every person deserves.

Compassion is a wonderful thing, and we’re all called to practice it. But if we ever feel like we’ve fully mastered it, then we’ve actually fallen into the trap of self-righteousness, and we’re destined for a fall. We can’t let our compassion lead us to become complacent or judgmental of those who aren’t compassionate. The truth is that we each have the capacity for darkness inside of us. We can all do better. And so we’re each called to wake up every morning and decide to love others a little bit better today than we did yesterday. If we aren’t actively working to improve, then we’re allowing hate to creep back in.

And if we aren’t careful, we may one day find ourselves looking in the face of a horrified friend as they see the darkness inside of us reflected in something that we’ve said or done. I’m committing myself to do the work to ensure that something like that never happens again, and my encouragement to you this week is that you’ll make that commitment, too. We can all do better at practicing compassion. Will you do what it takes?

March 06, 2018 /Devon Dundee
compassion
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Self-Love Is Hard Sometimes

February 27, 2018 by Devon Dundee

“Love your neighbor as yourself.” —Jesus (Mark 12.31)

In a piece a few weeks ago, I noted that loving ourselves is a prerequisite for us being able to love others. I didn’t say much, but I thought it was enough to get the point across so that I could move on. The more I thought about it, though, the more I realized that this topic deserves more than just a note buried in a blog post in my archive. Because it’s important, and I think it’s something we all struggle with from time to time. I know I have. So this week, I want to dedicate my entire article to this concept of self-love and its importance in our lives.

Growing up, we receive a lot of mixed messages about the way we’re supposed to approach our own self-image. We’re taught that we should love and admire ourselves just the way we are, but also that we shouldn’t be prideful or conceited. We need to value and appreciate ourselves, but we’re supposed to be sacrificial and put others first, too. “Love yourself, but not too much,” the world tells us. And while I think there’s some value to these well-meaning messages, they often leave us confused. Maybe even lost. And in the process, we can end up losing our entire sense of self-worth.

This is a true shame. When we aren’t able to love ourselves, we miss out on many of the great things of life. We can’t foster healthy, reciprocal relationships with others. We can’t excel in our careers and hobbies. And we can’t connect with God in realistic, enriching ways. We can’t do any of these things because we’re too caught up in ourselves, our insecurities, and our unfulfilled needs to live the abundant life God has for us.

Perhaps worst of all, when we don’t love ourselves, we can’t love others. The great commandment tells us to love others as we love ourselves. It doesn’t say “more than” ourselves. Or “instead of” ourselves. It says we should love others as we love ourselves, which means that self-love is necessary for loving others. The truth is that no matter what, we’re always going love ourselves better than we love anybody else. It’s human nature. So if we can’t love ourselves, how can we expect to be able to love anybody else?

Loving ourselves can be hard for a lot of different reasons. Maybe we don’t like the way we look. Maybe we’re dissatisfied with where we are in life. Maybe we’ve made decisions that we aren’t proud of, and they change the way we view ourselves. All of these things can harm our self-image and eventually interfere with our ability to like ourselves, even to love ourselves.

But the truth is that self-love, like any other kind of love, can’t be based on anything superficial. It can’t be based on something a person does, the way they look, or their position in life. Love is rooted in identity, who a person is. And self-love is no different. We’re supposed to love ourselves not because we’re perfect or successful or anything else. We’re supposed to love ourselves because we’re people created in the image of a God who loves us. That’s where our identity, our value, our self-worth, and ultimately our self-love come from.

By the way, that’s where love of others comes from, too. Right now, my big mantra is, “People are people.” And that’s why we love and value them. Because they’re people created in the image of God and loved by him. So if we can’t recognize that about ourselves and apply it in a way that allows us to love ourselves, we can’t possibly do that for others.

I’m not saying that it’s always easy. Even I struggle with self-worth and self-love from time to time. But that’s why we have to have a realistic view of ourselves in order to love ourselves well. Just like you truly can’t love someone you don’t know, you can’t love yourself until you strip away all of the extra stuff, look yourself right in the face, and choose to love what you see. You may be broken. You may have made some mistakes. You may not even like where you are in life. But you are created in God’s image; you are loved by him. And that’s more than enough reason to love yourself.

There’s nothing wrong with needing help from time to time, either. When we struggle to love ourselves, sometimes we need a reminder of who we are. And those who love us are more than happy to come alongside us and see us through the dark times until we’re able to love ourselves again. It may be scary to reach out and ask for help, but when we do, we often find that it’s been there waiting the entire time.

And once we love ourselves well, we’re free and able to love others. We can see their value and cherish them for who they are because we’ve already gone through that process ourselves. We can follow the command to love others as ourselves, and we can love others well because we’ve learned to love ourselves well. And that, friends, is a beautiful thing. It’s my hope for myself and for each of you that we get to a place where we can love ourselves for who we are and then extend that love to others as Jesus taught us. May it be so.

February 27, 2018 /Devon Dundee
compassion
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